Date: Sun, 28 Nov 1999 23:20:47 GMT
From: Dave McGrath <dragon_reborn88@hotmail.com>
Subject: Utopia (Chapter 3)

   This story is purely fictional and it's not suggesting anything about the
sexuality of either N'Sync or Backstreet Boys. I'm not trying to imply that
either one of the band members is homosexual or bisexual. I also do not
suggest this story to anyone who is offended by erotic homosexual stories,
or who is under the age of eighteen.

                   *******************************

   Lance was turning and flipping in the bed, desperately trying to get some
sleep. The night was hot, and although his windows were wide open, the air
was still heavy and humid. He couldn't calm down. first there was Justin's
face, profile of young god and heart full of suffering; something that drove
Lance crazy. All he ever wanted to do was to hold him and protect him from
the world. When that moment came, he wasn't there and he knew that's
something he will regret for the rest of his life. It was pointless trying
to make up for it, everything he did might have been good enough for Justin,
but it'll never be enough to calm Lance's conscience.
Then there was that guy Kevin. Guy that Justin desperately wanted to talk
to. Lance kept telling himself that he was doing the right thing by inviting
over some strange guy, and letting him mess with Justin's head in its most
fragile state. He could be a mental institution runaway, drug addict, or
even some forty-year-old pervert. Not to talk about the fact that he WAS a
killer. There was still no word from Paul, but Lance knew that he'll find
him sooner or later. That just started a another question: what is he gonna
tell J.C. and the others when Kevin shows up.
Lance got off the bed; it was hopeless. The chances of him getting back to
sleep that night were close to zero. He walked over to the open window and
listened to the rain that was constantly falling now third day in the row.
He could see the far away lights of the small town on the sea shore, but
there was no sign of life anywhere close to the house they were staying at.
Everything was surrounded by tall trees and impassable bushes height of a
regular man. He liked it there. Far away from big town traffic, crazed fans,
and hectic way of life. Justin didn't like it as half as much, but he didn't
have a choice. He had to recover as soon as possible, and being away from
everything was the best way to do it. Lance hated seeing him wither away
like a gentle flower trapped in a place with no air or sun, and that's what
he had to deal with every hour of every single day before they moved. Justin
wasn't strong enough to face the old way of life, and they all knew it. What
worried them the most was the fact that he might never be strong enough.
The ringing of the phone startled him and he picked it up quickly, before it
woke up everyone in the house.
"Hello...Paul? You found him?...Where? New York?...man...No, you did OK. Did
you talk to him?...Well, what are you waiting for? Send him over here on the
first plane...I don't care, tell him anything. Just make sure he's here as
soon as possible...Yeah...yeah,I know. I do owe you a big one...just get him
over here...OK, I'll talk to you soon, and Paul...Thanx man. See ya."
Putting the phone back on the night stand, he smiled slightly. He couldn't
wait to see the smile on Justin's face.

                   ********************************

   I got up around 4AM, suffering from one of the worst headaches I could
remember. Considering that I got less than an hour of sleep, I wasn't
expecting to feel any better as the day continued. Pulling the bottle of
extra strength excedrins out of the night stand, I swallowed three of them
quickly, hoping that they'll kick in before the headache affects the rest of
my body. The instructions on the bottle indicated that person SHOULD NOT,
under ay circumstances, take more than two pills at once. I stopped reading
those years ago.
The pain spread quickly, making my forehead and eyes feel like someone was
stabbing knives in them, and then kept pulling them out slowly. I wanted to
curl up under the covers and let the world go to hell, or simply curl up and
die. Shaking my head I stood up quickly. That wasn't the time or the place
for those thoughts. I couldn't afford to lose any time whining over my
pathetic life. I had to move fast.
After taking a quick shower, I dressed quickly and started packing. It
didn't take me long to pack up all of my stuff. There was a small number of
things that I wanted to take with me. Some clothes, CD's, my sketches and
letters, and all of the money I had saved. Which was barely enough for me to
survive more than a month without a job or place to stay. The last thing I
grabbed was a large black box from the top of the closet. I sat it on the
floor and kneeled next to it trying to postpone those few minutes when I'll
have to open it. Sighing deeply I took the top part off and removed the
black scarf which covered the content. The first thing I saw was my black
belt, worn away and parly ripped at the ends. Then there was everything
else. My diplomas, belts, testing uniforms, The Book of rules, some
pictures, video tape, and $10,000 in cash. I took the money out closing the
box quickly, hoping that I'll be able to forget everything I saw once the
box is closed. I stuffed the box in the last suitcase, and pulling my jacket
on, instinctively reached for the phone. I wanted to call people I know and
tell them that I'm leaving, but I ended up listening to the dial tone. There
was no one I could call. No one who'd give a shit anyway. That almost made
me laugh hysterically, but I stopped myself in time. There was no time.
Brian could wake up any minute and then there was no way of getting out.
Then it struck me that he might already be awake, and I grabbed my suitcases
quietly slipping into a hallway. The door of his room was half open and I
decided to risk it. I stepped in slowly looking for his figure in the messed
up bed sheets. He was sleeping peacefully, with his body curled up tight
around the pillow, while his steady breathing made him look like a scared
and abandoned child.
I took out a pencil and a paper from my pocket and scribbled quickly: 'Hope
this can make your life easier. I won it in a unfair fight; it doesn't
belong to me. Good luck. Kevin' I placed the paper together with the $10,000
on the night stand and walked out quickly.

   The street was empty; there wasn't a living soul in sight. I could feel
the eyes watching me though, and for the first time I wanted to know whom do
they belong to. I stood on the sidewalk for few minutes, knowing that I
should get out of there as soon as possible. The thing that was stopping me
was the fact that I had no place to go. There wasn't a one single person in
the world who'd be happy to see me, including my family. My father's face
flashed in front of my face and I pushed it back as fast as I could. There
was no point in remembering; I wasn't his son any more and God knows that he
never was my father. I couldn't even remember him ever trying to be one.
At that point, my mind was racing at least hundred miles per hour. That was
a bad time to start remembering things and crying over them. I knew that if
I started moving, I could probably turn my thoughts in other direction, but
I had nowhere to go. Irritated by that, I stepped off the sidewalk into the
street, hoping to at least walk down to bus station without being mugged or
in the worst case, caught in some crossfire. Just as I started walking, car
light hit me in the face and squeak of the tires made me jump back on the
sidewalk. The car stopped and tall, middle-aged man got out of the drivers's
seat. His gray but extremely thick hair gave him the look of a man who aged
too early, while the wrinkles around his eyes were deep and in some way,
even frightening. He gave an impression of a hero grandfather, who never
really admitted to being one. My arms were still shaking when I almost
yelled out:
"What the fuck is your problem?! You almost killed me."
"Sorry kid, didn't mean to. I was wondering if you could help me. I'm
looking for a guy who lives around here somewhere. His name is Kevin
Winslet...do you know him?"
Forgeting that the guy almost ran me over, I quickly searched my mind for
anything I could have done wrong in past year. I didn't mess with anyone,
didn't get in anyone's way, I didn't even fuck anyone who could get me in
trouble later. There was no reason why anyone would be looking for me,
unless...
"Why are you looking for him?"
"I have a business proposition for him. Can you show me where he's staying
at?"
"Business proposition? At four in the morning? Do I look like I was born
yesterday?"
The man wasn't losing his patience. In some way I even admired him for that.
"Listen kid, this is really important. I'm not gonna do anything to your
friend, I just wanna make him an offer. I've been looking for him non-stop
for the past 24 hours and I finally have a track that I can follow, so
please, just tell me where he is. I promise that I'm not gonna hurt him in
any way."
"Like you could."
I shut my mouth right away. I was taking the whole thing too far. It's not
like I had a choice, it was either accepting the proposition whatever it is,
or staying on the street until my money runs out. He was still waiting for
my response with his hands tucked in jacket pockets. Sighing and knowing
that I'll hate myself for this later, I pulled out my wallet with my ID in
it:
"I'm Kevin, and I, um...I accept the offer."
He stared at my ID for few minutes and then gave it back asking
suspiciously:
"Don't you want to know what the offer is first?"
I shook my head:
"It doesn't matter."
Shrugging his shoulders, he opened the back door of the car:
"OK then, jump in. I'll explain everything on the way."
"Where are we going?"
"Cape Cod."

                            End of the chapter 3